Hear the Angels Sing
by M.T. Stockton
Summary: About the angel who sang to the world, the world who sang back, and what happened when the song faded. Text religious, author not. Please R&R.


**A/N: **Well, this one was spawned by listening to too much of "It Came upon the Midnight Clear", one of the best Christmas carols out there, particularly as done by Bruce Cockburn. I know, I know. This story is kind of a different take on the song, another perspective on the same kind of issue. Listen to the song and you'll get it. Anyways, I also wanted to say that, although this story deals with highly religious, particularly Christian, subject matter, I myself am not of a religious bent at all. Therefore, the point is obviously not to force my beliefs on anyone or to denigrate their beliefs.

* * *

"Gabriel."

So he had finally fallen asleep. He had been fighting it for days. He had known the voice would come again the moment he succumbed. Sure enough…

"Gabriel."

He didn't answer, not yet. He didn't have to – all knew there was no ignoring a call. The Caller knew he was there. He wondered fleetingly, as he always did, where 'there' was. It was a strange state. Fully conscious, fully himself, yet not… not _in_ himself.

He didn't dwell on it. Disconcerting thought.

"Gabriel."

"Yes."

He knew what would be said. It was always the same, throughout the ages. The Caller only ever had one message for him, the Messenger.

"Gabriel, it is time for you to come back. You have been neglecting your duties. You have forgotten the people, Gabriel. They must hear you."

And he knew his reply. It never changed, either.

"I have not forgotten them. They cannot hear me."

"They can, Gabriel."

It was futile, really, he thought idly. Like a game. Round they would go, until he gave in, exasperated. The Caller was never exasperated. Ever patient, ever determined. And so Gabriel would return, would even stay for a while and enjoy it, and things would be different, but it wouldn't last. It never did. They would stop hearing, the din would drown him out. He would fade away. It was always the same, ever since that one night, all those years ago.

"_Gabriel, tonight Emanuel will go into the world. You shall announce his birth."_

_The day had come. Finally! He had gone down nine months earlier to tell the girl, Mary, that she would bear a divine child. And then he had waited. Knowing what this could mean for the world, it had been nine months of bated breath._

_He called together the other angels, his choir. Wings unfurled, they took to the skies, dancing with the stars above the fields near Bethlehem. The light of their joy and hope and their songs of praise woke a group of shepherds. Gabriel flew down and told them about Emanuel, that they would find him as a child in a manger. They hurried off, and as he watched, Gabriel heard the angels sing around him._

_Gloria in excelsis Deo._

It had been so long. But he remembered the joy, the hope. The love he had felt. He hadn't been able to stop the song, hadn't wanted to, and the world had given it back, echoed it note for note. But the love had turned to heartache. The cries of suffering, of longing, had grown louder than the song. He had left, had withdrawn to a cool, dark place where he would escape the din.

Then, the call had come for him to return, and he had let himself be persuaded to go back down onto the hot earth and once again speak to the people. For years he had stayed, giving the message and teaching the chants to them. They had heard him and had taken up the song, and he had felt as he had that first night. But it had faded. The noise became too loud and the song could not be heard. Once again he had left.

But again and again the Caller had sought him out, and again and again he had returned. But it had never lasted, and he had always left. So it was that he was alone in his place, the one place no one could find him save for the Caller. He did not want to leave it.

All this he told the Caller silently once again – it was nothing he hadn't previously expressed during such encounters. But mingled with the rush of love and understanding that always accompanied a reply from the Caller was a sense of warning. His reluctance would not be tolerated much longer. He readied himself for a stern diatribe, but as he felt the Caller leave and felt the awareness fade and himself slip into unconscious sleep, he heard but one soft sentence.

"You, too, must listen, Gabriel."

For a long time, he pondered those words. _"You, too, must listen, Gabriel."_ But listen to what? On earth, there was nothing to hear but the terrible moans of suffering that broke his heart. Surely the Caller did not want that. But… what else was there to listen to? They had long since stopped singing the angels' song. No, he could not return. Wrapping his wings around himself, he allowed the peaceful silence to overcome him once more.

* * *

"Gabriel."

Not again.

"Gabriel. Listen. You must go out and listen, Gabriel."

"Listen to what?"

"To everything."

"I cannot."

And time passed, and the Caller came, and still he would not return.

* * *

"Gabriel."

He had stopped fighting sleep, now. It was unavoidable and besides, the Caller would find a way to reach him anyway. However…

"I will not go out."

"No."

There was a pause.

"Do you know what day it is, Gabriel?"

He thought for a moment.

"The day he was born."

"Yes. Do you remember the song you sang then?"

He would never forget it.

"Yes."

"So do the people. Go out this night, Gabriel, and you will hear them sing it. Simply listen."

And the Caller left him again. He awoke instantly this time, and in spite of himself was intrigued. Could it be possible? His song… could they really be singing it?

Slowly, he roused himself and stretched his stiff, tired limbs.

Did he want to go out? Were they singing it? The Caller wouldn't lie to him. They must. But… why? And what if he couldn't hear them? If… _he_ couldn't hear _them_.

He couldn't hear them.

They hadn't stopped singing, that had never been the problem. He had stopped listening. He had allowed himself to hear only the cries and groans of pain. So then, if he went out now, if he tried and listened, then maybe, maybe, he would hear them.

His dark hiding place was now filled with the light of his desperate hope, and beyond he could see the world stretched out and glittering with millions of tiny lights. It seemed to reflect the sky, studded with stars that looked so inviting. Unable to resist, Gabriel spread his wings and, after a final brief moment of hesitation, threw himself into the air.

Cool breezes glided past him, and as he let himself drift, he closed his eyes and tuned in to the world below. At once, the desperate noise of suffering assailed him and his breath caught. What had he been thinking, to come out here? Better to turn back… No. He had to listen. The song was there. He opened his eyes and flew down lower.

A change, a shift, occurred then, of which he became aware only gradually. It started as a tremor in the air, delicate but unmistakable, a vague electricity that seemed to course all around him, swept up in the wake of his wings. He looked for its source, perplexed, and saw beneath him a small town. It seemed that all the inhabitants of this town had turned out and were congregating at a small building. A church, he realized. This seemed cause for attention. He slowed his pace 'til he was nearly hovering. As he watched, the people entered the church. When the last one had gone in and the massive wooden doors were closed against the cold, the bell lodged in the church's steeple began to ring, a clear, loud sound that echoed through the small streets of the town and out over the surrounding plains. With every peal, it seemed that the electrical charge which he had felt earlier grew in intensity, until the air seemed to pulsate, seemed almost tangible. He drew in a gasp as he was overcome by the expectation that hung thick around him; it seemed the world was lying in wait, holding its breath and he, unconsciously, was doing the same.

When the final note from the bell faded, there came a hush over the town. Gabriel waited, riveted. Then, through the heavy silence of the night, there rose the thin strain, barely perceptible, of a solitary voice singing within the church. He was unable to make out the words, and so flew down even nearer to the earth. Finally, the song became clear.

But it was… impossible.

No, not impossible. As he stopped short directly above the church, all those within took up the song and it swelled in strength, growing and filling the surrounding night sky.

It was his song.

And as he listened, his breath growing ragged and his face wet with tears he couldn't comprehend, it seemed that the song came from all around him, that the whole world must be singing it.

His song, the one that he had sung all those years ago, hovering above the plains on the outskirts of a small town on a cold, clear night…

His song, the one that he now sang once more, surrounded by the light of a joy and a love that would know no end…

_Gloria in excelsis Deo._

FINIS


End file.
